It happens
by Aranna Undomiel
Summary: Lindsay's first solo interrogation turns out different than she would have expected. The consequences are not just for her to live through...
1. Chapter 1: Trouble

" **It Happens " **

**by**

**Aranna Undomiel**

A/N: Don't own CSI New York, unfortunately for me, but perhaps rather fortunate for them ;)

Oh I do own the other characters you meet in this story, but I'm afraid it won't make me as rich as I would be when owning the CSI's ;P

This story is set somewhere in the beginning of season 2. Recently found this 2-chapter story after cleaning out my computer and decided to finish it and post it. Hope you'll like it :D

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><p>Chapter 1 Trouble<p>

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><p>As the officers hauled her prime suspect into the interrogation room, Lindsey Monroe tried her best not to flinch or show any other outward reaction at the sight of the feral sneer the man directed towards her. But clearly that wasn't enough, because the man reacted by deepening his scowl, earning her an amused grin from the tall, dark haired detective standing in the corner.<p>

_She hadn't been working here for that long, being transferred from Montana to New York had been a big change for her. And if that wasn't enough on its own, she was to replace a well-loved member of the CSI team. Needless to say, the reactions from the rest of the team, except for Mac off course, had not been overly kind at the beginning. Friendly yes, but not really caring, not at the start of her first shift. But now, after working here for a few months, she had finally started to settle in, becoming a respected member of the team, trusted to work this case solo. Well nearly solo, the tall detective in the corner still went with her on trips outdoors and with interrogations._

_The detective was the one she knew the least of; at first she had been wondering how that could work, how he could be a part of the team, but the interaction worked wonderfully well. But still she hadn't learned more about him than his name. Well that and the entire family-history of Don Flack junior; funny how gossip always seemed to be the first thing you heard when you arrived somewhere new..._ she mused. _And now they were doing this case together. The man they had put in front of her at the table, Jed Dowler, was suspected of the brutal murder of a young woman. The images of the crime-scene still vividly visible in the back of her head, she had wasted no time in trying to find the one who had done that and bring him in._

_" So Mr. Dowler" _Detective Flack started, as he pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning against. This startled Lindsay, realizing that she hadn't said anything for the last couple of minutes, lost in her thoughts. _"I'm glad you decided to make use of our hospitality. I would have hated to use force on a nice guy such as yourself."_ Dowler didn't respond, but just continued to stare straight ahead, at Lindsay, who started to squirm a bit under that look. _"Ah yes, you like blondes don't you?"_ Flack taunted, while he leaned in on the suspect, effectively blocking his vision on Lindsay.

_"Do you know a woman named Jessie Sandston, Mr. Dowler?"_ Lindsay took over, as she slid a photo across the table past the detective. No reaction came, expect a hand came up from under the table to pull the photo closer. Angered by the smile appearing on his face, she slid more photos across the table. _"See, we know you murdered her. Your fingerprints and DNA were all over her. What went wrong? She didn't want you? Thought you were an ugly old creep?"_

This got a reaction from both men: Dowler's head flew up at the comment, while Flack moved away from the table a bit in surprise, trying to hide his smile.

_"She fought you, didn't she?"_ Lindsay continued, trying to get him so angry that he would spill it all. _"And she nearly won, until you pushed her __and __she fell, hitting her head, stunning her. You couldn't even have taken her otherwise, you're too weak for that!"_

From that moment on, everything happened in a blur. Flack noticed Dowler's hand going into his pocket and swiftly getting back out, clutching something. He jumped towards the table as Dowler went for Lindsay, trying to grab the suspect's hand, but he just missed it. Pain shot through his arm and as he looked at it briefly, he saw a shard of something sticking out of his wrist. Dowler meanwhile still tried to get to Lindsay, who had jumped back in fear and shock, chair fallen backwards. He tried to overpower the man, but Dowler turned out to be a lot stronger than suspected, belying Lindsay's earlier comments. He knew he couldn't hold him down alone, so he yelled at Lindsay, who still stood there, to get some help. She finally snapped out of it and bolted for the door, yelling for help.

Flack quickly focused his full attention back on Dowler, trying to get the man's hands behind his back as he pushed him against the table, but his injured left hand missed the strength to keep a good hold. Dowler's grappling hands somehow got hold of the shard and suddenly pulled it free. The unexpected pain caused Flack's left hand to loosen its grip and Dowler took the small opportunity it presented. He pulled his hand free and planted his elbow forcefully in the detective's stomach. Flack gasped for air as it was forcefully driven out of his body and that gave the suspect the possibility to hit him under his chin, sending the detective to his knees, just as many officers burst into the interrogation room with guns drawn. Dowler quickly pulled the still stunned detective in front of him for cover, holding the shard as a knife against Flack's throat. _"I'll kill him if you don't let me go! Now back off!"_ Dowler shouted, stressing his words by pushing the shard tighter against Flack's neck. The officers looked at each other uncertainly and than back at the detective, who, carefully not to get himself stabbed by the movement, nodded his consent. The detectives moved out of the room and slowly closed the door.

Dowler pushed Flack to a sitting position and stalked angrily to the chair, placing it near the detective and sat down on it, not taking his eyes from the door. Flack meanwhile pressed his fingers against his wound, blood still seeping through them. He tightly buttoned the sleeves of his dark suit and held his arm up against his chest, effectively blocking the blood from sight, but not entirely stopping it from flowing out of the wound...

Minutes and minutes passed with nothing happening and the detective saw Dowler getting more restless with each minute that passed, twirling the shard between his fingers. _I so need to have a word with the one who searched him before sending him in, next time he can sit here! _Flack thought as more minutes passed by and more of his blood joined the rest already soaking the sleeve of his jacket.

_"Hey!"_ Dowler suddenly yelled, _"I want a car, you hear me!"_ A few seconds passed and then the door opened slowly and Mac walked in, just as Flack had figured he would. That tactic never failed to work on stressed people.

_"I'm afraid we can't do that..."_ Mac started, only to be interrupted by Dowler: _"Yes you can, I've got your detective, remember? If you try anything I'll kill him!"_ He yanked the detective up out of his seated position to prove his point. Flack suddenly felt very lightheaded and his vision swam for a second. _"You alright, Flack?_ Mac asked, a little worried about the pale color appearing on the detective's face. _"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine Mac, really,"_ Flack answered quickly, a little too quickly for Mac's liking. _"I probably got up a bit too fast."_ He continued flashing his trademark smile at the attempt at a joke, but it did nothing to ease Mac's worry, if the skeptic look on the CSI's face was anything to go by.

_"See, he's alright"_ Dowler said. _"Now get me my car!" __"I'll see what I can do"_ Mac answered before moving to the door. He looked questioningly at Flack, who nodded back almost impercievably in response.

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><p>TBC…<p>

I'd love to hear what you think of it. Reviews make my day!


	2. Chapter 2: Family

**A/N:**

Thank you so much for the great reviews I got for my first chapter, afrozenheart412 & MesserGirl. And thank you for putting me on your alert list or favouring this story; afrozenheart412, MesserGirl, Lindsay1234, chouchounette, Wonderful-Nonsense, lilnicki23 & jennybean22. You all really made my day!

I hope this last chapter will be to your liking too :D

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><p>Chapter 2 Family<p>

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><p>Relieved to see Flack nod his consent, Mac exited the interrogation room, taking one last look at the occupants in there. But as he walked back to where the rest of the CSI's were currently trying to calm down an upset Lindsay, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was not quite okay with the detective. It had been something in the eyes of the young man, in the way he had paled when he was forced to get up...<p>

Shaking his head, he quickly schooled his features in his usual emotionless facade as not to worry the rest of his team, especially Lindsay who felt guilty enough as it was for getting Flack into this, before he pushed open the door.

10 pairs of eyes turned his way, each brimming with the unspoken question if Flack was all right. The detective, though still young, had, without obvious effort, managed to earn the respect of many of the men in the precinct; the same way he became a valuable part of the close-knit CSI-team of Mac Taylor. Many detectives before him had failed, but Don soon won a warm place in their hearts and friendships were formed and Mac found he got along quite well with the laid-back man. The both had the same taste in humor; though many people felt he had too little of it and Don too much...

Realizing he was still standing in the doorway, he quickly answered Stella's question about what Dowler had wanted. He quickly fell back on his Marine-training, or his "M-mode" as Danny liked to call it whenever he thought Mac couldn't hear him; and gave his orders to the occupants of the room to start preparing for their entry. But he couldn't help but notice the questioning and worried glances Stella kept throwing in his direction. Somehow she always managed to see through his facade, to know his true feeling underneath the mask...

Not wanting to dwell on that now, he quickly focused his attention back to the situation inside the interrogation room...

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><p>The second the door of the interrogation room had closed behind Mac's retreating back, Fowler pushed the detective away from him and started pacing. Though relieved not to be feeling the sharp edge of the shard dangerously close to his jugular vein anymore, the unexpected push caused Flack to catch himself in order not to fall flat on his face. Pain seared through his arm as the wound on his wrist was pulled open again and the blood that had been only dripping now once again flowed freely. Holding in a frustrated growl, Don quickly clamped his hand down on the wound and held it up against his shoulder again. He leaned his head back against the cold white wall behind him and listened to the footsteps of Dowler, who was muttering to himself.<p>

After sitting there for what must have been nearly 20 minutes, Flack felt himself getting drowsy. He blinked a few times and shifted his position. But the rhythm of the footsteps continued on and soon his eyes closed again, his mind slowly getting less focused…

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><p><em>What was that? <em>His foggy brain tried to come up with an explanation for the loud noises that shocked him back into consciousness. He tried to open his eyes, but found that his eyelids had become a lot heavier since last time he had tried to move them. Voices sounded near him, but he couldn't get himself to try and figure out what they said. Slowly he let himself sink back into the darkness.

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><p><em>A little earlier<em>

From behind the see-through window the CSI's, dressed in the same outfits as the intervention team that stood waiting near the entrance of the interrogation room; looked intently at the two men inside. As the minutes passed, they saw how Dowler's pacing brought him further away from where Flack was sitting, from who they could only see his long legs, as sight at the rest of him was blocked by the table in the room. As Dowler became more and more distracted by his one-sided conversation, he started to loose his attention to his surroundings. Not wanting to risk waiting to long and getting Dowler agitated again, they decided to take action now. Mac stepped out of the room to talk to the leader of the intervention team. Both quickly agreed and the teams moved out to take their positions.

Lindsey, still too shaken from the events to be included in the rescue, was their lookout. The moment Dowler neared the furthest point of his pacing, she gave the okay. The door to the interrogation room was kicked open and the team ran in. Dowler, who had spun around at the sound of the door slamming against the wall, realized with a start that he now was held at gunpoint by at least 8 weapons and gave up swiftly. He was quickly secured and pulled out of the room.

The CSI's quickly went to Don's side, their worry spiking, as he hadn't given a single reaction to all the commotion happening around him. They found him leaning against the wall, eyes closed and arms resting in his lap.

Stella was with him first, calling his name and shaking his right shoulder. As she pulled back her hand, she started at the sight of blood on it. Worry growing even more, she quickly checked him over. As she lifted his left arm, she noticed the blood trailing down his fingers to the ground. Unbuttoning his left sleeve, she found the source of it. Clamping her hands around the gash, she called for the paramedics, who had already been on stand-by, just in case. The CSI's who were gathered around their friend, were pushed aside and Flack was rushed to the hospital.

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><p>A couple of hours, a few stitches and two IV-bags of fluid later, Don found himself lying in a hospital bed. Instead of focusing on getting better he was blaming himself for everything that happened: he should have checked Dowler's pockets himself, his reaction should have been quicker, but most of all he felt a little embarrassed at how easy he had passed out from the loss of blood…<p>

His thoughts were stopped short however when Lindsey appeared in the doorframe, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Her eyes, roaming around the room, almost immediately went to the white bandages around his left wrist. She remembered the words of the doctor, about how lucky the detective had been. A little more to the left and the shard would have severed his artery instead of one of his veins and than he wouldn't have held out for so long.

She moved over to the bed, stumbling on her words to express her regret for the things that happened. _" I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, I just…" _Don interrupted her by raising his uninjured hand. _" It wasn't your fault, I don't blame you for what happened Linds, nobody does" " But…?"_

" _No buts, shit happens, you know" _He winked at her and she couldn't help but feeling a small smile breaking out at that, it growing swiftly as the full strength of Flack's contagious smile was directed towards her. She felt like a weight was lifted of her shoulders as he squeezed her hand gently. As behind her the other CSI's filed into the room, she finally felt part of the CSI-family...

The END.

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><p>Please let me know what you think of this chapter or the story as a whole. I'd love to hear from you! Reviews make my day :D<p> 


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